


Cleaning Out the Car

by diblums



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Universe, Hair-pulling, M/M, Wing Kink, Wingfic, moulting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diblums/pseuds/diblums
Summary: Inspired byTHISpost, plus some moulting and hurt/comfort fluff after.





	Cleaning Out the Car

The sun warmed Dean’s face against the cool autumn breeze, wind kicking up dried leaves and plucking the last soldiers from the trees. Dean squinted up at the cool blue sky above before resuming his rummaging in the trunk of the Impala. Tangled weapons in varying states of filth or disrepair sat enmeshed in the trunk, like a bloody version of pick-up sticks as Dean tried to coax a blade from between shotgun muzzles.

With a gust of wind picking up and swirling the dried leaves around, Cas landed near the entrance of the bunker. He took a step toward the entrance, halting at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean called, waving at him before resuming his rummaging in the trunk. Cas treaded the gap between them, leaves crunching between his feet and the gravel drive below. Dean stood at the trunk of the Impala, a large trash bag and two small piles of grotesque weapons by his feet.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked, his head tilting at the sight. 

“Well,” Dean started, lifting the open end of the trash bag and stuffing wilted fast food wrappers in with the trash. “I’m just tidying up in here. Sam made some snide remark about the state of my car and not being able to find what he was looking for, so I’m going to dump the trash on him while he’s sleeping.” Dean grinned, holding up the bag triumphantly before dropping it and continuing to sort through the trunk’s contents. 

“Sounds like a typical day around here,” Cas said, a smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth. 

“Why, what are you up to?” Dean said, a crease across his forehead. 

“Actually, I’m rather at a loss as to what to do right now.” Cas lifted up a serrated knife caked with brown blood stains, his nose crinkling the tiniest bit. Dean laughed and took the dirty knife from him.

“Well, this isn’t really a two person job, but you’re welcome to hang around.” Dean said, as he added the knife to a pile of similarly stained weapons in what Cas realized was his ‘dirty’ pile. Cas met eyes with Dean, a warmth in them before Dean turned away and cleared his throat. Clattering a few weapons together, Dean reached to the bottom of the trunk and pulled out a pair of modest reading glasses. 

“What the hell are these doing in here?” Dean held them up, Cas looking at them through narrowed eyes. “What do you think, do they sui— HOLY FUCK!” Dean screamed as his eyes saw through the lenses, falling over backward and knocking his head off the bumper as he tumbled to the ground. Cas jumped in surprise, then rushed to Dean’s side and crouched down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, putting a hand on the back of Dean’s head, cushioning it. Dean mumbled unintelligibly, his eyelids fluttering in his attempts to open them. Cas put his other hand under Dean’s back and pulled him upright, hugging him to his chest. “Dean, are you badly hurt?” 

A low moan croaked from Dean’s throat, and he lifted his head and seemed to snap back to awareness. “Holy shit, dude, what the hell is up with these glasses?” Dean yelled, pulling back from Cas with an expression of shock. He lowered the lenses, then lifted them again, watching as two massive black wings twitched and flared their feathers.

“What are you talking about?” Cas said, resting his weight on his knees and angling his head at Dean. Dean began to hyperventilate, his eyes rolling back in his head as his body went limp. Cas lunged forward and caught him, wrapping him in an embrace before flaring his wings and taking flight. Landing in Dean’s bedroom, he set him on his bed. Cas removed the glasses and set them on the night stand, then rolled Dean onto his side and examined his head. He held up two fingers, pressing them gently over the gash in his scalp and emitting a glow. The gash sealed, and Cas rolled Dean back over and sat on the bed next to him. Dean’s eyelids fluttered, his eyes cracking open slowly before he sat up and looked around the room. 

“What in the hell just happened?” Dean said, pressing the heel of his hand into his temple and blinking hard. 

“I am unsure, you seemed to be putting the glasses on in a joking manner, but then you saw something that frightened you—” Cas’ voice began to trail off, his features becoming stoic as the realization set in.

“Your wings!” Dean said, a smile cracking across his face. “I just wasn’t expecting to see them, they startled me.” Dean looked around, spotting the glasses on his nightstand and putting them back on. He looked back at Cas, his mouth falling open as he took in the sight of Cas’ wings. Cas looked at him, a sparkle in his eye as a smile slowly warmed his features.

“I thought you didn’t like what you saw,” Cas said sheepishly, his cheeks taking on a pink tone in the dim light of the bedroom. 

“What? Dude, no, that’s not it at all. They’re just a lot to take in when you aren’t expecting them. Whacking my head didn’t help, either.” Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his head, frowning at the blood he collected on his palm. He got up and rinsed his hand, running his wetted hand over the back of his head and re-rinsing it until his palm came back clean. He turned around to face the bed, seeing Cas had curled himself into a ball and hugged his knees. His wings sat folded tightly against his back, and he looked up at Dean with watery eyes. “Hey, you okay?” Dean asked, sitting next to Cas on the bed.

“Yes, why?” Cas said, his head bobbing as his chin remained planted on his knees. Dean took off the glasses and rubbed his eyes, then looked back over at Cas.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He smiled as Cas’ facial features twitched in various minute expressions, his thoughts in turmoil as he struggled for a response. He lifted his head off his knees, barely raising himself from the hunched position he held.

“Perhaps it is like the time I appeared to you while you were showering. You were insistent on hiding your genitals because they are a sensitive part of you. I feel as though you’ve seen me in a more intimate manner now, and I wasn’t entirely prepared for the way that feels.” Cas kept his gaze locked straight forward, but with extended silence he braved a glance at Dean. 

His expression was soft, softer than Cas had anticipated. Dean clicked his tongue off the back of his front teeth, tilting his head as he reached a hand out and placed it on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas, I am so sorry, I had no idea.” He gave Cas a firm squeeze, making direct eye contact. He looked away and placed the glasses on the bed beside him, then folded his hands in front of himself. “Is there anything I can do to make this better?” 

Cas took a long breath, then slowly unfolded himself and turned to sit next to Dean at the edge of the bed. “I just always imagined you seeing my wings for the first time and it being a special moment between us. It hurt more than I can describe that you saw them and screamed in terror.” Cas dropped his head, turning away as he felt his lower lip tremble. 

“Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean stammered. He realized his hand was on Cas’ thigh, and he lifted it briefly. He felt a twist in his chest, then muttered, “fuck it,” and put his hand back down and squeezed. “I’m so, so sorry, Cas. But it wasn’t terror, I promise you that.” He smiled as Cas turned a little back toward him.

“Then why’d you scream?” Cas said, voice wavering.

“Have you _seen_ your wings? They are _breathtaking_. To be faced with them unexpectedly would knock the wind out of _anyone_.” Dean chuckled as Cas turned back more with hope warming his expression. “And if you don’t believe me, you can read my mind, right?” Dean cradled Cas’ hands and lifted them, placing them on either side of his head. “Go on, or ‘Yes,’ if that’s the magic word.” Cas tried to pull his hands away, but Dean gripped him tighter. “I insist.”

Cas stopped resisting Dean and cupped his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and reached out to Dean’s mind, the barriers falling away at his presence. The shock and awe was fresh in his mind, and Cas felt a twinge in his heart as he recalled the memory from Dean’s head. Then Dean brought up a different memory: the warmth and humidity of a shower swirling around them as he watched himself appear through Dean’s eyes. Cas pulled back, tried to stop the memory, but Dean held Cas’ hands to his head. He felt Dean’s heart rate jumping at the sudden presence of another echoing in his chest, but there was a sensation he was unfamiliar with below the belt. He realized Dean was trying to hide himself, but part of his struggle was an increase in its size. The memory faded, replaced by another. Dean pacing a dirty motel room, Sam asleep in one bed as the other sat vacant. A sense of panic accompanied the memory, Cas watched as Dean checked his cell phone and looked out the window several times. With the sound of wings, Dean’s memory whirled around to see Cas standing there, a huge rush of relief washing over. Cas thrashed his arms, pulling away from Dean and whimpering as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“What are you doing? What are you trying to show me?” Cas said, his voice rising in tension as he backed away from Dean. A look of devastation settled across Dean’s features as Cas backed up. 

“I—” Dean choked. “I wanted to show you how I feel. You said you wanted me seeing your wings to be a special moment, I— I don’t know. I don’t know what I was trying to do.” Dean got up, crossing the room and pulling the door open.

“Dean,” Cas said. He continued on down the hall, ignoring Cas. Cas rolled his eyes, then flapped his wings, catching up to Dean and wrapping his arms around him in a familiar embrace as he continued flying. He brought them down by the hood of the Impala, Cas releasing Dean from his grip and backing up. “You’re misunderstanding me. I’m an angel, I’m not used to the raw power of human emotions. There was a lot of emotion in those memories, I’m not used to such strong feelings.” Dean slowly turned around to face Cas, a somber expression across his features. “There’s only one strong feeling I’ve grown familiar with, and it’s this one.” Cas stepped forward, and cupped Dean’s jaw in one hand as he brought their lips together. Cas sent him the feeling of longing he always held in his chest, the feeling he routinely squashed when he stopped himself from getting closer. Dean froze in place, his lips immovable as Cas pressed into them. A cold pain twisted in his chest as Dean remained frozen, slowly breaking away from the embrace. 

In one swift motion, Dean pulled Cas back in, his lips pressing back and grabbing for Cas’. His arms wrapped around Cas’ body and held him tight to his own. Hands wandered into each other’s hair, heavy breathing crashing under their noses. Cas grabbed handfuls of fabric, clinging tightly to Dean and whimpering. Dean broke away from the kiss, a soft chuckle shaking him as he held Cas tight. Cas pressed his forehead against Dean’s, their eyes meeting as their breath swirled around in the space between them. Then Cas rolled his spine, burying his head into Dean’s shoulder and clutching his coat. Dean rested his head against Cas’, breathing deeply his warm cinnamon vanilla scent as he gently rocked side to side. Cas stepped back, hands still clutching his coat as he looked up at Dean. A glimmer shone in his eyes as he smiled, Cas couldn’t help smiling back. 

Dean cradled the side of Cas’ head and closed his eyes, sharing the feeling of joy and excitement in his chest, warming Cas until his cheeks burned pink. “Cas, I— you have those kinds of feelings for me, I didn’t think a stinky mortal could mean so much to a celestial being.” Dean stared wide-eyed into Cas’ eyes, a tension rising in his throat.

“Dean, you are a paradox. How a man can be both so intelligent, and yet so stupid,” Cas said, his teeth gleaming as he grinned. “You amaze me.”

“I don’t know whether to kiss you, or punch you in the gut,” Dean said, an impish gleam to his smile.

“Um, did you want to see my wings again?” Cas asked, voice sheepish.

“I would love to, and I promise I won’t scream this time,” Dean said, a full grin spreading across his face. Cas reached into his pocket, retrieving the glasses he stashed and unfolded the arms. Dean took the glasses, closing his eyes and sliding them onto his face. “I’m gonna let you tell me when to open my eyes, alright?” Dean said.

“Ok,” Cas said, stepping back a few paces and turning his back to Dean. “Open your eyes.”

Before him stood the man Dean had always known to be Cas, but facing him were two massive wings thick with obsidian black feathers. They sat folded neatly to his body, like a bird sitting comfortably on a tree branch. Then he unfurled his wings, stretching them out to their full twenty-three foot span and spreading the feathers out in the sunlight. As he angled his wings, holding them up high, and then spreading them wide again, the feathers shone with a blue iridescence the colour of the angel's eyes. Dean began to feel dizzy, realizing he was holding his breath. He inhaled deeply, and then sighed, “wow.” He took a step closer to Cas, reaching out in an attempt to touch the wings, but his hand passed right through. He stopped, looked at his hand, then looked back at the wings. “I have an idea,” he said, rounding to the back of the Impala and digging in the open trunk. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked, tilting his head inquisitively and folding his wings behind himself again. Dean retrieved the vase of holy oil, and poured some out into the palms of his hands. Then he rubbed the oil over his hands, covering his skin in the cool liquid. Then gingerly, he reached out, stroking the leading edge of the wing. His fingers connected with the warm feathers, their silky texture catching on his rough skin. A strangled squeak came from Cas, and Dean watched him reel as a shudder worked its way up his spine. His feathers fluffed up, making his wings appear even more enormous. 

“Was that ok? Did that feel ok?” Dean asked, watching Cas quiver through the lenses. 

Cas nodded aggressively, and spun around on the spot and spread his wings again. “Can you massage near where the wings meet my back, it’s been sore.” Laughter shook Dean as he watched Cas stand there expectantly.

“I’ll do my best, just tell me if you want it harder or softer or anything.” Dean stepped closer, tracing fingertips over the surface of the feathers before beginning to rub deeper in the plumage. At the first plunge of Dean’s fingertips, Cas yelped in his true voice, Dean wincing at the shrill cry.

“Sorry, it just feels so incredible, I can’t help it.” Cas looked over his shoulder at Dean, who could see the angel blushing deep red. An impish grin set into Dean’s features as he moved closer still. He traced the tip of his nose up Cas’ neck, tenderly working his fingertips into the thick feathers and rubbing in tiny circles. His grip grew steadily firmer, burying his fingers until they met with hot skin. Cas moaned in ecstasy with his vessel’s voice, occasionally a shriek of his true voice escaping. As Dean worked down to the bottoms of the wings, Cas curled the ends of his wings in and rubbed himself along his front. As Dean reached under and stroked the underside of the wings, Cas cried out. Then he spun around and wrapped his arms around Dean and pounded his wings. 

Dean let out a guttural moan as Cas backed him onto his bed, snapping the door shut with a wingtip as he climbed on top of him. With a ravenous hunger, Cas pulled at Dean’s clothes in attempts to remove them. As Dean also began to struggle to get his clothes off, Cas grunted and flung the clothes off both of them with a quick hand gesture. His cock bobbed up and down, brushing against Dean’s full mast as Cas pushed Dean down and kissed him. Dean buried his fingertips in the soft down at the very base of the wings, massaging in tight circles as his tongue danced with Cas’. 

Cas shuddered, his grace burning hot behind his eyes as he buried his fingers in Dean’s hair, then gripped and pulled. Dean sunk into the plush memory foam, rolling his pelvis and pressing against Cas’ hot skin. He reached back and opened the drawer of his nightstand, reaching blindly and knocking the contents around. Cas leaned over, a crease in his brow. 

“I’m trying to grab the lube, there should be a bottle of it in there,” Dean said, his cheeks flushing hot. Cas picked up the stout bottle of Sliquid and showed Dean. With a nod, Dean took it and began coating Cas’ feverish cock. With a sweeping gesture of Cas’ hand, Dean grunted at a great disturbance within himself, feeling lighter. “What did you—”

“I know human males usually need to prepare before intercourse, but you wouldn’t have had the opportunity. I thought I’d help,” Cas said, his eyes sparkling as an apologetic look settled on his face. Dean shook his head, then grabbed Cas’ cock in two hands and pulled him closer.

“Nice touch,” Dean growled, raising his head off the bed to kiss him and nip at his lips. He bent his legs back, his knees nearly hitting his shoulders as he plunged his hands into Cas’ plumage again. Cas moaned, his body quivering as he struggled to hold himself up.

“Are you sure you want to do this with me? Mating with an angel is— different. We’ll always be bonded if we do this.” Cas bit his lower lip, searching Dean’s expression before resting his gaze in his eyes.

“I thought we already shared a profound bond,” Dean said, a grin cracking across his face. “So the way I see it, nothing is changing.” He rolled his pelvis, his puckered opening kissing the tip of Cas’ cock. Dean started rubbing Cas’ wings, pulling him closer. “Yes, I am sure, Cas. I want you to fuck me.”

A low growl escaped Cas’ throat as he lined himself up with Dean’s begging ass, applying gentle pressure and then backing off. A few repetitions and Cas worked the tip inside. With tender strokes, he slid himself in by millimetres. Slipping back and forth in tiny increments, he worked the length of his shaft inside Dean until his hips pressed into Dean’s ass cheeks. With a long draw out, Cas pulled himself almost out, then slowly worked his way back in. Dean let out a long moan, his wing massage growing stronger. Cas drew back again, changing the angle of re-entry. Dean cried out, his hands clenching around Cas’ feathers.

“Did I hurt you?” Cas asked, his voice panicked.

“Fuck, Cas, you found the hot button, do it again,” Dean moaned. A smile cut across Cas’ face at this, so he repeated the stroke. As he gained momentum, Dean began clutching hard at his feathers, burying his finger tips deep in the plumage and rubbing as cries of pleasure escaped his throat. “I’m gonna fuckin’ blow it so soon, shit,” Dean growled, digging his teeth into his lip hard enough to draw blood. Cas kept himself propped up on one hand, and reached his other hand down to wrap around Dean’s shaft. He gripped it firmly, stroking him up and down in sync with his pelvic thrusts. Dean howled with bliss as he shot strings of cum across his own chest, into Cas’ chest, and up past his head and onto the bed. The sensation of his pelvic floor muscles quivering and his death-grip on his feathers sent Cas over the edge. 

“Close your eyes,” Cas yelled as his eyes glowed bright and his thrusts grew faster. Dean clamped his eyes shut, focusing on massaging in Cas’ wings and keeping himself tight around his shaft. As his true voice grew to a shrill peak, Cas shot cum deep inside Dean as he held himself tight against his body. As the tremors settled down and the light dimmed, Dean cracked an eye open and took in Cas’ face of bliss. A heat rose in his chest, and he reached up and gripped the back of his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. 

“Sorry I didn’t last very long,” Dean said, a blush warming his cheeks. Cas smiled, easing his sated shaft out and eliminating the mess with a quick hand gesture. He lowered himself onto the bed next to Dean, resting on his side. He curled himself around Dean’s panting body and nuzzled his cheek with the tip of his nose.

“I didn’t last long either, I’ve been aching for this closeness for so long,” Cas said, resting an arm across Dean’s chest and relaxing. 

Dean rolled his head to look Cas in the eyes, the afterglow still lighting up his eyes a bit. Dean pulled the glasses down and looked over the lenses, then pushed them back up on the bridge of his nose. Cas folded his wings behind himself, the feathers fluffing up as he snuggled him. 

He felt himself drifting toward sleep, and slowly sat up as he took Cas’ arm off his chest and gripped his hand. “If I keep laying here, I’m going to fall asleep. And I left the car wide open and a fuckin’ mess, I should finish before I commit to having a nap.” Cas sat up next to him, and wrapped his arms around Dean. He felt an ethereal warmth, and looked through the lenses to see Cas had wrapped his wings around him too. “You are so fuckin’ sweet, Cas.”

“I want you to know, I—” Cas started, his voice catching in his throat. “I love you, Dean.” He nuzzled his head in the nape of Dean’s neck, keeping his grip tight around him.

“Hey, Cas, look at me,” Dean said, his voice soft. He stroked Cas’ hair as he raised his head, looking straight into his eyes. “I love you too, and I hope you know that already.” Dean smiled, a smirk tugging at Cas’ lips before leaning in for a kiss. Cas stood, collecting the clothes off the floor and bringing them back in a pile. He sorted through them on the bed, giving Dean’s clothes to him. With a smirk, Dean grabbed Cas’ boxer-briefs and put them on, an impish gleam in his eye as Cas tilted his head.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked, biting his lower lip as Dean slid the fabric over his sated cock. Cas drew a long breath in, and then sighed.

“It’s somewhat customary after a couple has sex that they wear each other’s underwear. Easier since we’re both guys: wearing the thong of a one-hundred pound bar tender is NOT as comfortable as it is hot.” Dean chuckled, then pulled his jeans up over Cas’ underwear and fastened the button. He looked over at Cas, who was frozen in incredulity.

“We’re— you said it’s what couples do,” Cas stammered, clutching Dean’s grey boxer-briefs in his hands. “Do you mean to say—” Cas stopped, his face burning hot.

Dean smiled, and closed the space between them. He put his hands over Cas’, gripping them as he looked into his eyes. “Of course, I mean to say.” Cas leapt on Dean and wrapped his limbs around him as he plunged into a kiss.

They finished dressing, Dean biting his lower lip as he watched Cas put on his underwear and rub his hands over his butt, feeling the texture of the fabric against his vessel’s skin. Once fully clothed, Dean gripped Cas’ hand in his own and walked with him out to the front door. As Dean pushed the main door open, he faltered, Cas bumping into him at the sudden stop. 

“Hey, there you a—” Sam started, halting at the sight of them holding hands. He looked at their entwined fingers, then up at the love-sick look Cas was giving Dean, then back to Dean’s panicked expression. “Wait, really? Finally? After all this time?” Sam said, excitement rising in his voice. He tossed the garbage bag aside and stepped closer. Dean remained frozen, unable to bring himself to respond or pull his hand away from Cas. At a slight tug on his hand, he shifted his weight and looked back at Cas. 

“We, uh— yeah.” Dean stammered. Cas tilted his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re not trying to hide it,” Cas said, a trace of wonder in his voice.

“Well,” Dean started, looking from Sam to Cas. “I don’t think there’s any point to trying to hide it now. Maybe it’s that greater bond you were talking about, but I just know trying to hide it would hurt you, and I don’t want to do that.” Dean looked down at their hands, until Cas gently lifted his head with a finger on his chin.

“Thank you,” Cas breathed.

“Wow, character development, I’m proud of you,” Sam said, a smile cracking across his face. “Anyway, do you need a hand cleaning up the car? I was going to go get a bag to bring in all the weapons that need cleaning.” Sam smiled, looking between Cas and the somewhat-frozen Dean. Cas tugged on Dean’s hand again, jerking him free from his catatonic state.

“Um, sounds good, thanks,” Dean said. He looked wide-eyed at Sam, then back to Cas. His smile warmed Dean, who inched forward and let go of Cas’ hand, trading it for holding him around his middle. 

“You’re not going to pretend we aren’t together to look manly to Sam?” Cas asked, smiling as Dean touched the tips of their noses together.

“I’m starting to see that the so-called ‘manly’ thing to do is be unafraid to say who I love,” Dean said. 

“About fuckin’ time,” Sam chimed as he opened the door to the bunker, laughing at Dean’s immediate glare before retreating inside. 

Dean and Cas approached the car, Dean opening the rear door and sliding onto the seat. He stretched himself out horizontally, and reached under the front bench for discarded food wrappers and coffee cups. Cas caught up and grabbed the garbage bag, holding the bag open with one hand and picking up the trash Dean excavated with his other hand. After removing what he could reach, Dean slid out of the car and loaded the last of the refuse into the bag before bumping the door shut with his hip.

“It’s kinda hot, every time I move and I feel the fabric of the underwear shift, I remember that I’m wearing yours. Then I get a little turned on.” Dean smiled as he stepped closer to Cas, tracing the tip of his nose along the skin of Cas’ neck before planting a kiss on his collarbone. Cas let out a shaky breath, and stepped closer to Dean and rocked his pelvis into the side of Dean’s leg. 

“It is titillating to know the underwear I’m wearing was on you before I fucked you,” Cas growled, leaning close to Dean’s ear. Dean moaned softly at his touch, and smacked Cas’ ass before returning to the car. He climbed in the front seat, reaching under the bench to grab the last bits of trash hanging around. 

As Dean climbed out, Cas took the trash bag from Dean’s hand and dropped it to the side, then wrapped his arms around Dean and buried his face in his shoulder. “Hey, what’s up?” Dean asked, his voice silky. 

“I’m feeling— off. It feels like something is wrong but I’m not sure what.” Cas held himself against Dean’s body as a shiver started to work its way up his spine. 

“Do you need to sit down?” Dean asked, tension rising in his voice. He turned Cas and walked him backward to the car, guiding him to sit on the front bench. Cas wobbled as he lowered himself, gripping Dean’s arm tight until his butt rested on the cool leather. He pinned his eyes shut, drawing a long breath through flared nostrils and clenching his jaw. “Cas?” Dean cradled his jaw in one hand, stroking his cheek with his thumb. 

“Fuck, I know what’s happening,” Cas groaned. Dean flinched at the swearing, then knelt on the ground by Cas’ feet and looked up at him. “I’ve been overdue for a moult, but I suppose heightened activity levels have been putting it off. Now that I’ve mated with you, a moult has been triggered.” Cas kept his eyes shut and jaw clenched, a hand white-knuckle gripping the door frame of the car. 

Dean reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the glasses, sliding them on and looking up. Cas’ wings were slightly unfurled, twitching and trembling. “It’s hurting you,” Dean breathed.

“Hey, everything ok?” Sam asked as he approached. Dean whirled around to face Sam, earning a raised eyebrow as Sam saw the glasses.

“Cas is starting to moult, so he’s hurting pretty bad,” Dean said, slowly standing and leaning on the car. He put a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezed, watching the trembling in his wings slow.

“Angels moult?” Sam said, wonder sparkling in his eyes. “Also Dean, what’s with the hell-hound glasses?”

Dean smiled, and pushed the bridge of the frames up his nose. “Well, it’s not just hell hounds you can see with these.” Dean turned, reaching a hand out and gently stroking the edge of Cas’ wing. Cas shivered, his feathers raising at Dean’s touch. Cas put a hand over Dean’s and directed his hand to a part of his wing near the wrist joint.

“Scratch here, it’s so itchy,” Cas said, his voice uneven and dire. Dean slipped his fingertips through the plumage, rubbing in short strokes until Cas gasped in relief. He kept scratching there, feeling a large feather come loose. He helped coax the feather out, Cas sighing as the feather came free of his wing.

Sam stood dumbfounded, watching in silent incredulity as Dean’s hands wandered feet away from Cas’ body. As Dean pulled out the feather, Cas relaxed his back and slumped into the door frame of the car, leaning his head on the cold steel and closing his eyes. “So you can see his wings with those? That’s actually pretty awesome. Can I see?” Sam asked, shifting his weight.

“I dunno, he was a bit bashful about it at first. Cas, can Sam see your wings? Are you ok with that?” Dean asked, running a hand through Cas’ hair.

Cas lifted his head and opened his eyes, a glance up at Dean before looking to Sam, then back to Dean. “I would be ok with that. It was only upsetting earlier because I thought you were unhappy to see them.” Dean ran his fingers through Cas’ hair, then gripping the short locks and pulling Cas' head up.

“Well, I hope you know now how thrilled I am that I can see them,” Dean said, a smirk tugging at his lips. Cas smirked back, then closed his eyes again as Dean released the grip on his hair and began stroking his scalp in slow strokes. With his other hand, he took the glasses off and held them out for Sam. 

As the lenses began to cross his path of vision, Sam jumped in place and nearly dropped the glasses. Dean ground his molars together in a futile attempt to stifle his laughter, gasping and hacking for air as he snorted. Sam stood wide eyed and frozen a moment, then slid the glasses back over his face. His mouth fell open at the sight, massive obsidian wings shimmering blue in the setting sun. Dean scratched Cas’ scalp with his fingertips before resuming slow strokes, urging Cas to look up at the expression of awe on Sam’s face. A smile stretched weakly across Cas’ pale features, and he closed his eyes and rested his head again. 

Sam looked from one wingtip to the other, the black of the wings phasing through the black metal of the car as he sat in the open driver door. They twitched and shook as Cas breathed, the shaking slowing whenever Dean ran his fingers through Cas’ hair. Sam lowered the lenses and looked over them, then raised them again and smiled. “Holy fuck, that’s incredible. I mean, I’ve always known you have wings, but I never really thought about what they look like. They’re beautiful,” Sam said, awe alight in his eyes as he handed the frames back to Dean. 

With a quick glance through the lenses, Dean pocketed the glasses in his coat and crouched in front of Cas again. “Okay, man, we should get you inside so you can rest properly.” He patted Cas on the knee, then took his hands and pulled. Cas remained immovable, merely slumping forward from his seated position. Dean sighed, then placed Cas’ hands over his shoulders and leaned down and scooped Cas into his arms. With a hand on either butt cheek, Dean stood, straining under the dead weight of him. He leaned backward as far as his back would allow and carefully turned to walk toward the door of the bunker.

Sam jogged ahead and held the door open for Dean, going down the steps ahead of him and keeping his hands on Cas’ back. Dean grunted under the weight, the walk to his room proceeding agonizingly slow. Sam opened the door to Dean’s room for him and pushed it open from the hall as Dean inched past. With a pained groan, Dean lowered Cas to the bed, losing his balance and toppling over on top of him. Cas yelped at the sudden weight atop him, and Dean let out a strangled cry as he felt his back muscles rip. 

“Hey, are you sure he’s feeling up for that right now?” Sam chided, a laugh escaping as Dean struggled to roll off of Cas. 

“Fuckin’— shut up,” Dean growled, rolling his head to look at Cas. The angel cracked his eyes open and looked at Dean, pain shaking him as he tried to keep his eyes open.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas whispered, weakly raising a hand to touch Dean’s cheek. Dean growled in pain as he sat up, then helped Cas pull himself further up the bed so his legs weren’t hanging off. As Cas’ head connected with the pillow, Dean stiffly crossed his room and pulled an extra blanket from a drawer. He draped it over the trembling Cas, wincing as he bent down and kissed his forehead. 

“Get some rest, I’ll be back in a bit.” Dean said, then stroked Cas’ hair. He set the glasses on the bedside table, then grimaced as he stood up straight and walked out of the room. He pulled the door shut with a soft _clunk_ , then turned to Sam.

“You alright?” Sam asked, a crease in his forehead.

“Yeah, just pulled something in my back. Might’ve been fine if I could’ve put him down differently, but like fuck, I can’t just drop him.” Dean winced, cupping the offending lower back muscle in his hand. They entered the kitchen, Dean immediately raiding the pantry for painkillers and bourbon. 

“Listen, you go stay with him and make sure he’s ok, and get some rest yourself. I’ll take care of the car.” Sam said, Dean looking at him and raising an eyebrow, then exhaling and nodding. “Do you need anything from the store?” 

“Just somethin’ to eat, maybe chicken wings. Pie. More bourbon. Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said, bracing himself against the counter and giving him a pained smile.

“Don’t mention it. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you two. Really is good to see you two finally together.” 

“Thanks. Also shut up,” Dean said, a light fist bump to Sam’s shoulder as he turned back toward his room.

He stepped down the hall, his back stiff and causing a waddle as he approached his door. Once in his room, he shut the door behind himself and navigated to the side of the bed furthest from Cas and turned on a light. He gingerly set himself down on the bed, wincing at the weight his back held in the brief transition. Then grabbing a fistful of denim, he pulled a foot up and rested it on his knee, untying the boot and working it off. He switched feet and removed the other boot, letting it clatter to the floor. He sucked air through his teeth as he removed his coat, tossing it to the floor next to the bed. 

He looked down at his jeans, then turned to see Cas lying still with closed eyes. With a shrug, Dean loosened his belt and unbuttoned his pants, raising himself off the bed just enough to get the jeans around his ass and down his legs. The sight of Cas’ boxers made him grin, his hand rubbing the fabric and savouring the texture. With a final kick, he freed himself of his pants and swung his legs up onto the bed. He rolled over, lifting the blanket over Cas and sliding himself under it. Cas twitched, lifting his head and looking at Dean.

“Deeeaan,” Cas breathed, rolling to face him and draping an arm over him.

“Hey, you ok sharing the blanket?” Dean said, shuffling his weight and inching closer to Cas until the tips of their noses touched.

“Of course,” Cas said, his voice dreamy. Dean shuffled his shoulders closer, his arms folded against his chest between them. Cas’ upper arm draped over them, his lower arm bent between them and his fingers enmeshing with Dean’s. As natural as peanut butter and jelly, they both slipped into sleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
